


you reach out to be consumed

by XellyChan



Category: Slayers (Anime & Manga)
Genre: F/M, Secret Santa, evolution-r, lina is like catnip to mazokus, smutty nihilism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-27
Updated: 2019-01-27
Packaged: 2019-10-17 09:01:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17557370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XellyChan/pseuds/XellyChan
Summary: Perhaps it was The Mother of All's way of reminding her children that from nothing they came and to nothing they could return.





	you reach out to be consumed

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shathereal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shathereal/gifts).



> Written during the 2018 Slayers Secret Santa for Shathereal. I’m so so so so very sorry this is as late and short as it is. I loved your prompt, but I’m awful and life is so time consuming. Besides all that, I had fun writing this! Thank you, I hope you like it! Title lifted from Interpol - Flight of Fancy

**And we will walk the path of destruction together** .   
  
Unnatural stillness fills the long, dreaming moment after Shabrinigdo's second death. The lord of nightmare's power hung like an oppressive pall over everything, snuffing out the remnants of Ruby Eye's boiling hatred, leaving nothing behind.    
  
All that remained was a void, suffocating even to a monster.    
  
Xelloss' wounded, shredded existence creaks under the weight of emptiness, each moment he lay prone threatened to wear him away. Slowly, stutteringly, Xelloss begins to pull his shattered astral body together, achingly reforming his physical form.   
  
When the stumps of his arms regenerate, Xelloss crawls painfully towards Lina, where she's slumped in the rubble, the threads of his unfinished body dragging behind him.    
  
Her hair hangs limp, a funeral shawl of silver spider webs instead of vibrant waves of auburn. There's a fragileness to her frame that wasn't there before. Her slight body appearing infinitely breakable as if the wind will take her away in a carousel of ash and dimming embers. He scrapes himself closer, the oppressiveness of the Lord of Nightmare's presence somehow stronger and weaker the closer he gets to Lina.    
  
As if a fragment of that power remained inside her but was dormant now, falling into a deep slumber in slow increments, and yet always present.    
  
The pressure of that power rasps uncomfortably against his astral being, but it's a curious, lukewarm feeling; not quite enough to be truly painful, but as the power recedes, he feels instead as a keen loss. Like a thread of his existence is being pulled and unraveled, whittling him down a little at a time.   
  
Perhaps it was The Mother of All's way of reminding her children that from nothing they came and to nothing they could return. Xelloss rasps a laugh despite himself, the taste of ichor sweet on his tongue.   
  
The air shudders, a slow collective breath as the humans awake from the stupor of terror after bearing witness to powers far beyond their comprehension.   
  
From below, the pain, fear, confusion, and dread from the Talforashia citizens and Lina's comrades begin to filter to his astral body, healing him. The flavor of their emotions is bittersweet with the relief of survival. To him, it tastes like an overripe fruit beginning to turn, sweet and a little bit like iron and rot. Slowly at first, like grains of sand in an hourglass, his body begins to knit together, and then as the shock wears off the gathered humans, their emotions pour into him all at once like a dam breaking.    
  
The taste floods his mouth, but he doesn't pause to consider it, merely clenches his newly formed left fist and heaves himself that last, infinitesimal distance. Xelloss allows himself a brief study of Lina herself. Shadowed eyes, mottled bruises, and small gashes peek through tattered clothes, discoloring fair skin. She hasn't moved once during Xelloss' slow crawl towards her. A muddle of sensation clouds through his being, an unfamiliar hesitation creeps upon him as he reaches for her. His fingers hover over her cheek, not quite touching her, but close enough to feel the warmth radiating from her skin.   
  
Xelloss mouth thins, his eyes open dark and pensive as he stares at her pale face, searching for traces of gold beneath her skin. After a long moment, he closes that last, infinitesimal distance, cupping her cheek against his palm. His fingers fan across her cool skin, thumb tracing the swell of her bottom lip, wiping away a thin stream of blood there. He leans forward and presses his mouth to hers, tasting dust and sweet, warm,  _ mortality _ . "All human are you," he whispers against her lips, voice low and longing.   
  
Lina shifts and groans, eyelids fluttering.  Lingering, still searching for fragments of  _ gold _ and  _ creation _ , Xelloss catches a glimpse of something bright, something unbendable.   
  
"Xell-?" Lina breathes. He tastes his name on her lips. "Wha-?"   
  
Xelloss smiles against her mouth and vanishes.    
  
***   
  
**I dreamt a long dream.**   
  
"Are you still watching that one, my pet?" Beastmaster asks, lounging luxuriously among her wolves, the bright end of her cigarette ashing into a golden tray.    
  
The shade of gold is too light, pale and clean, yet Xelloss thinks of a golden sea raging inside a small, red and earthy vessel, black lightning cleaving an empty sky asunder. Xelloss smiles an easy smile. "It's what you ordered me to do."   
  
Beastmaster laughs in an exhale of smoke. It smells like burning, smoldering villages. "Oh my. When did my cute little creation become such a willful child?" She crushes her cigarette in her golden tray, then summons the crystal Xelloss had been idling beside. Xelloss says nothing, placid as his master turns the heavy crystal between her manicured claws, glimpses of fiery curls flashing along its surface. "Such a small thing," Zelas says at last, bemused.    
  
Still considering the crystal, she lights another cigarette. Her claws clink along the surface, tracing the sweet curve of Lina's face.   
  
Xelloss folds his hands over his lap politely. He does not bother himself with feigning disinterest. "Ms. Lina is very small indeed, but her potential is..." Xelloss taps a finger across his bottom lip. Remembers the taste of iron and sunlight at dusk. He smiles. "Well, there are reasons you have me watch her."   
  
"Don't put this on me," Zelas says. "You're going above and beyond your original mission parameters. So far, you've kept yourself almost undistracted."   
  
There's a mild rebuke in her tone, but her expression remains bemused. The threat is barely implied, but it's there nonetheless   
  
Xelloss bows, not denying it.    
  
"Well, carry on." Beastmaster allows, at length. Idly drawing on her cigarette, she waves the crystal back towards Xelloss. He catches it, smile serene, eyes open. Fire red curls flash between his fingers.    
  
***   
**You who present me dreams of ruin.**   
  
Perhaps Beastmaster is becoming sentimental. More likely, Beastmaster feels secure with her power. She's gained much after the defeat of so many Dark Lords, after all. He's a favored creation, but nothing will stop her from erasing him and starting over with a new subordinate. Perhaps one without so many idle curiosities.     
  
Though his work does not suffer, the threat of distraction stays hovering over his shoulder should he slip too far. It's especially present at times like this when he finds a lull between his missions, and there's nothing in particular for Xelloss to do.     
  
So he searches across the astral plane for that singular soul. Despite everything, there's little reason not to.   
  
Lina's soul isn't much different from any other human soul. It shines more or less with the same flickering brilliance as most other souls. It's the color of the morning sun, a pale, blushing red as it rises from the horizon. It's lovely, if only because it belongs to her.    
  
A small, warm, human light, unremarkable in its mortality.    
  
Xelloss feels his astral body shudder, unraveling at the edges as he circles closer to Lina's soul. He reaches out, the blackness of his form coiling around her light like a serpent.   
  
Her soul pulses. A flicker of gold.    
  
Through the thin veil of the astral plane, Lina says, "I know you're there."   
  
Xelloss stills. A long moment passes before unwinds his astral body away from her soul, then slides into the physical plane besides Lina, smile in place. "Quick as always, Miss Lina," he says brightly, giving her a jaunty little wave.   
  
Lina snorts, flicking her hair over her shoulder arrogantly. "Of course I am." Her mouth is like the curve of a blade, sharp and gleaming when she smirks at him. "Quick enough to know you want something."   
  
"Do I?" Xelloss asks, smiling. He touches his finger to his cheek, tilting his head.   
  
Her hip cocks to the side, hands braced at her belt. Her eyes are very bright. Lina steps closer to him, close enough to touch, expression expectant. Just a little smug. "Well sure," she tells him. "Or else you wouldn't be keeping such close,  _ personal _ tabs on me." Lina smiles. The setting sun on the horizon drapes her in a halo of burning, molten gold. Xelloss feels himself burn with it. "Am I right?"   
  
***   
  
**You who dreams of golden dreams (be destroyed with me)**   
  
"It's rare when you're alone, Miss Lina," Xelloss says. The door closes behind him with a soft click. "Is that the reason behind your impulsiveness, this evening?"   
  
Lina scowls, nose wrinkling. She lifts her hair off the nape of her neck and lays it over her bare shoulder. Her cape and mantle lay draped over the small writing desk provided by the inn, her talismans in a neat pile on top. It was strange to see Lina without her tunic and breeches or her various gear. "I don't think I like the implication there."   
  
Xelloss lays aside his staff, smiling peaceably. "I wasn't implying anything sordid, Miss Lina." He pauses, then laughs as he sits on the bed. "Or rather, nothing more sordid than undressing in front of a monster."   
  
"Don't besmirch my maidenly virtue," Lina drawls, moving to stand before Xelloss, stance wide and challenging. As if she wasn't in her white undergarments but instead staring down a bandit, her next target, destruction in her hands. Something primal inside Xelloss' astral body tightens in anticipation under her gaze. His fingers twitch against his thigh in response to the sensation. "I'll kick your ass if you do."   
  
"No," he agrees, voice low. "I would never." He tilts his head up, exposing his throat. His eyes catch hers, the flickering candlelight on the bed stand makes her irises look like burnished gold. He's seen those eyes before, in a dream, in a nightmare. Xelloss feels his physical form waver, bubbling excitement races through his being, not unlike bloodlust, but fuller. Deeper. A strange, hollow hunger.    
  
Perhaps Lina isn't the impulsive one here. Xelloss' smile curls into itself; he is all too aware of what he's doing. Moving slow, his fingers fan across the swell of her hips, thumbs smoothing over the indent of her waist. The skin is soft and cool, her belly dipping as she sucks in a breath when he presses his lips beneath her navel. Nuzzling against her warming skin, lips fluttering along her hipbones, the line of her ribcage, Xelloss asks, "Why are you letting me touch you?"   
  
Lina's hands tangle in his hair, tugging firmly. "Why do you want to touch me?" She asks, her nails scraping along his scalp.    
  
Xelloss shudders, fingers tightening over her fragile flesh. "I want," he says, the words heavy and dangerous over his tongue. His astral form quakes; distantly he can smell the smoke from Beastmaster's cigarette. Lina pulls his hair, catching his drifting attention. The sharpness of it sends a shock across his astral body. He breathes, leaning up to nip at the edge of her brasserie. "You've touched the sea of chaos. I want to taste it."   
  
***   
  
**an empty dream.**   
  
Strange.    
  
So strange.   
  
Like a void. Heat and breath and sensation. He remembers this feeling, surrounded on all sides by an immense pressure, the marrow of his being whittled away.   
  
Lina's fingers lace and tangle in his hair, pulling him towards her sweaty, salty neck. "You think too much," she gasps, arching into the slow roll of his hips. The candlelight catches in her hair, spilled carelessly across the ruined sheets. Xelloss clutches at her thighs, slotting himself impossibly closer, mouthing at her pulse. Wet heat, hazy gold, encroaching darkness, such a nostalgic feeling.    
  
He trails his mouth from Lina's neck to her jawline, pressing his smile against her ear. "I'm not thinking, Miss Lina. I'm  _ worshipping _ ."

 

"Idiot," Lina chokes, chasing his mouth with her's.

 

Yes, he must be, he thinks. 

 

Xelloss kisses her, tracing his hand along her side until he cups her face. He tastes molten metal. He tastes fire. 

 

He tastes his end.

 

He tastes her beginning.

 

He tastes golden creation. 

 

Xelloss laughs into the join of their mouths.


End file.
